


Time and I

by Somethingwonderfulneversaid



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:54:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25449433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somethingwonderfulneversaid/pseuds/Somethingwonderfulneversaid
Summary: The title comes from the wonderful song by the band Jukebox the Ghost, whose songs have been rattling around my brain for the last two weeks in lockdown- I don’t own any of the lyrics, they all belong to the band. I don’t own any of Doctor Who either, but I’m working on that one. This is my attempt at the post Dalek scene, that many people have done better than me, but I wanted to try anyway.
Relationships: Ninth Doctor & Rose Tyler, Ninth Doctor/Rose Tyler
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	Time and I

_ Time and I, I, I don't see eye to eye _

_ Try as I might, it ain't no friend of mine _

_ As I get older and time rolls forward _

_ Never slower, it ain't no friend of mine _

The Doctor frowned and pinched the bridge of this nose. Things hurt inside his back that he had no right to even be aware of, let alone try and heal. He wondered how Van Statten had done such an effective job at burning him from the inside out, when the man was clearly a cretin. 

_Cruelty, he supposed with a bleak inner chuckle, doesn’t need to be intelligently designed, only knowingly applied._

He coughed. A mistake he wasn’t going to make again in a hurry. Gingerly, he rose from underneath the central TARDIS console, and hoped he could get to his room before he started to seize up any worse. It was like Van Statten’s machine had reprogrammed his brain to be suddenly agonisingly aware of all 900 of his years. He could almost feel his bones become porous and spongy, like they would bend instead of break. His joints felt unnaturally warm and stiflingly swollen against his leather and denim armour. He needed a healing trance - but how he was going to be able to concentrate through the pain enough to meditate he didn’t know. 

His head bowed, he headed back towards his room, and collided with a blonde blur of anxiety that barrelled down the corridor. He caught Rose as she bounced off him, her forward momentum enough to threaten to knock her feet out from under her. 

“Adams a creep!” Rose blurted out, clinging to his forearms. 

“This was news?” The Doctor enquired sardonically. He knew that the boy’s timeline didn’t hold anything other than selfish choices. He also knew that Rose would give almost anyone the benefit of the doubt, including him. She huffed in response. 

“Wanted to show him the stars, like you showed me, but instead I’ve showed him a knee to the groin. He got handsy.” The Doctor went through a violent cascade of rage, concern and then relief that Rose could both take care of herself and that she wasn’t interested in the pet she’d picked up. He then winced at the pain that exertion had caused.

Rose flinched, almost startled, worried that somehow that she had caused him harm. 

“You don’t look right” 

“Thanks - that’s what every bloke longs to hear” 

“Don’t be daft. You know what I mean, you’re in pain. Did something happen at the museum?” 

The Doctor doubted he could lie convincingly at the moment. 

“Van Statten had a blunt instrument and wanted answers. Ill heal in a day or two, nothing to worry about. Isn’t it way past your bedtime?  Always asleep you are!” He tried to josh away her concern, plastered on a grin and tried to reach for the door to his room. Rose bodyblocked him and fixed him with a stare that could only have been inherited from Jackie. 

Bugger. He wasn’t getting away with it this time.  He sighed and pushed open the door with one hand.

“In you get then” 

Rose flashed him a winning smile. She knew he didn’t stand a chance. Not really. That bloody Dalek had had him pinned. Suddenly, as he stepped across the threshold - something in his shoulder seized itself into a little ball of rage. He barked an incoherent noise of pain, which he hoped sounded manlier than a sob. 

Rose’s eyes grew impossibly larger.  _ How did she do that?  _ Then they narrowed, as she adopted a brisk business like manner. 

“Sit!” She commanded and he obeyed like a lamb. Perched on the end of his bed, she helped him peel off the leather. The woollen jumper had almost become fused to his skin in a patch just above his left shoulder blade. Blisters from the electric burnshad burst and the sweater had become stuck on the damaged skin. Clicking her tongue in dismay, she looked to the ceiling and concentrated hard. He watched slightly bewildered. 

Rose then stepped back and went outside the door, crouched down and retrieved a tray of what looked like calamine and antiseptic lotions and a pair of surgical scissors to pick away the offending clothing.

His hearts swelled as he watched her silently thank the TARDIS with a glance to the ceiling and a smile. The TARDIS singsonged in his mind about how much of a goner he was for this little pink and yellow human. To be honest, he didn’t care anymore and playfully mentally swatted his beloved ship back. Rose calmly, and with infinite care slowly began to peel the wool off his shoulder. He hissed as the fibres stuck. She murmured soft apologies. The whole thing took around twenty eight minutes. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had paid him this much careand attention. His hearts hurt as he remembered what he’d lost, what he’d chosen to destroy. Sensing his pain, Rose kissed his forehead above his left eyebrow. It shocked him back to the present. He met her eyes as she finally stepped back.

“Thank you” he said earnestly, and felt inadequate. He reached forward for her hands and kissed each set of knuckles. Rose blushed from the tips of her ears down. 

“I need to heal, meditate into a sort of a trance. You get some rest - you’ve had a near death experience yourself today. I’ll see you in around 12 hours” 

Rose solemnly nodded in response, and lightly tiptoed from the room. Lying down where he was he began to inwardly chant the mantras to begin the trance - time seemed to stutter - go slower than it ought - and he could not finish the pattern. He was interrupted by a weight dipping the bed on the other side and a small soft hand finding his own. Roses thumb traced circles on his palm. The tiny repetitive motion cleared his mind enough to complete the mantra. Together, they healed. 


End file.
